I Know Places
by ivyclaire
Summary: Oh dear diary, I met a boy/He made my dull heart light up with joy AU. Clarke lives on her own in a dangerous world and tries to survive with some help from Raven. Her path crosses with Bellamy's and her life changes (kind of). Does that even sound romantic? 'Cause I plan some Bellarke development. (I really suck at writing summaries)
1. I

**I do not own any characters or basically anything in this story; it's a work of pure fiction.**

**Hello, everyone, this is my first story ever published here and I don't really know how everything works.**

**Also, the lyrics from the summary belong to Marina and The Diamonds, I do not own it. **

**The title of this story is the same as the title of one of the songs of Taylor Swift; it has no association with the said song, but I'm just going to write that and say that I don't own it, 'cause I don't want to be sued.**

**Happy reading!**

I

_The town's dark_

_The light's dimmed_

_The heart's shattered_

\- the excerpt from the Grounders' book of poems _Of The Night _by Anya

In every city there are nooks and crannies undiscovered by any human. Untouched, still, withered and shrunken by  
the sense of invisibility. It's not even the fact that no one set a foot there, places like these are simply unseen. One  
can smoke there, laugh or cry, lonely or not, but they never acknowledge the plain presence and location of the spot, it's nature and atmosphere.

I'm in one of such places. It's near the centre of the town, its market precisely, but this fact makes it even harder to notice. You know what they say, it's always darkest under the lighthouse... Does this even relate to my story? The answer is obvious, yet unclear, for those who know the abyss has no bottom, same goes with life. The depth of its absurdity leads us through thorny tunnels, but one thing is certain. You never know what's around the corner. That said, such places might never bother the mind of an ordinary person. They might never even cross or akcnowledge them. For some people, however, the very fact of their existence makes them dizzy and unsteady. Why is that, you may ask. You see, I'm one of the unfortunate ones, those who have to spend a vital part of their lives lurking in the shadows, waiting ambushed in such places. I have my experience to speak for the entire group of people, because there is literally no difference. You've got some town, night, a couple of gloomy alleys lightened by ghostly glow of a broken lantern and a person with dirty hands and some wicked business. This time, it's me.

Not that my hands are particularly _dirty._ I just have to surivive somehow. And behind _somehow _are hidden some nasty things, but isn't survival the basic human instinct? I just can't resist it and give in. No way.

'Griffin', I hear a female voice behind me. I can immediately tell who this is. Places like these get little recognition, but that's been already said.

'Reyes', I turn around waiting a bit before doing so. Reyes is actually a surname of a young girl almost in her twenties, going by the name of Raven. It always gets me though, the way this name suits her. She has dark almost black hair, even darker eyes and eyebrows. Her face isn't _sharp_, but it has a distinctive shape with her striking cheekbones and full, seductive lips. It's an unforgettable face, one that you contemplate and dwell on. Raven is truly beautiful.

But that's not exactly the best thing about her. There are many pretty people, sure, only some of them can be called _beautiful,_ but there are even less who have brains as brilliant as hers. And _that's _the best thing about her. Raven is simply a genius.

'Yo, what's up?', she says gravely, posing as a downtown gangster with dirty businness on their mind. We both burst into laughter at the same time. It's our inside kind of a joke. We usually meet in places like this one and it always looks mysterious and ambiguous, so Raven said this thing one time, that we look like we were acting suspicious and dealing coke. Hilarious.

We're not drug dealers for the record, because _we _as drug dealers is literally the last thing on Earth to happen. Even after nuclear war, when the entire humanity would be wiped out and this would be my last hope for survival. I'd rather eat a two-headed deer for that matter.

'Yo, Big Bird. Ain't got no coke today', that's the right answer. I remember one time, I wanted to visit Raven in her hideaway and she would be like 'What's up?'. I spotted a small carved description on her wooden door, it said _password. _I then recalled when she told me that in her neighbourhood coke was always the answer and it would get you through any door there. Raven was silent, so I thought that was the case and said 'I don't have any coke today...?', she laughed and let me in. Later, she said this _password _wasn't meant for me to say, but it became our little traditional greeting anyway.

'We should really stop saying this, you know? Someone might arrest us', she grins.

'No, why would they anyway? It's not like we _do _have any coke', I smile back.

'Clarke, actually... I wanted to meet up, 'cause I met this one guy... He's a shooter', she spits out and looks at me firmly. I break the eye contact and sigh.

'What kind of guy are we talking about here?', I demand looking around.

'He's got a couple of automatic guns and other really kick-ass weapons and besides... He's got his clique', she says trying not to grin at what she just said. There's a lighthearted spark in her eyes as if she was very excited about this whole thing. Which makes me wonder though...

'And that was supposed to make me feel better? They'll shoot me, if it's such a _clique_', I suppress a smile.

'No, baby girl. They'll teach you how to shoot', she says lifting one corner of her mouth up.

'When am I supposed to meet him?', I sigh. I don't like this idea very much. I wanted to practice on my own, but Raven's just incredibly stupidly stubborn.

'Tomorrow at five p.m. in the old warehouse hall on the Grounders Street', she answers with a strange spark in her eye and turns around.

'One more question, Reyes', I smile against my will.

'Shoot', she doesn't turn around just keeps going.

'Did you sleep with him?', I smirk as she moves her head and I hear her chuckle.

'_Maybe_', she says playfully, raises her hand and waves me goodbye.

Did I mention that I love her? We've known each other for just a couple of weeks now, but with her briliance she's made my life easier and brighter. Only times like these she's slightly annoying, 'cause I didn't ask for a shooter, just for a gun. Not that I wouldn't be able to get it on my own, but... Well. I don't want to become a criminal worse than I already am.

I leave the alley before anyone can see me and move away from the city lights. It's almost midnight, but I don't mind. I'm not an avid sleeper if I can put it that way. I always imagine that one day I'll just fall asleep and won't wake up for the next twenty-four hours for all these sleepless minutes I spend on everything but sleeping.

The night is dark and foggy, there's no moon and the stars aren't visible thorugh thick layer of smog. I live in the poorest region of the country and therefore the least picturesque. The concrete is cracked and covered in coal dust, the roadway is made of asphalt that melts every Summer and the freezing always leaves ruptures. There are hundreds of little pebbels on it and it practically serves as a pavement for pedestrians since not many people here can afford a car. Unless, of course, you're priviledged, which I used to think was a word describing _me_. Not that I particularly liked it though. Why would some people have it better than others? Who said that? However, every fool knows that it's better to be the priviledged one than a mere mortal in these surroundings. So I kept my mouth shut. Things changed since that time, now I'm living on my own and I no longer know where my loyalties lie, so I've been called numerous names, none of which considered me a priviledged person anymore. _Traitor. Double-crosser. Renegade, backstabber, misfit. _

That doesn't bother me anymore, because I'm not the same person I used to be. And that's good, I like it. Sometimes, just sometimes, I feel a bit lonely. I guess solitude is the best friend of the treacherous.

Raven used to sing a particularly haunting song about a young girl, a child actually, who committed a murder and then regretted it so much, that she jumped from the cliff.

_ She was just a little girl, a little child,_

_ Her fathers, oh they sent her here to die,_

_ She witnessed a murder, what a sight,_

_ But she didn't know, she didn't hear, _

_ They only killed him,_

_ 'Cause he was ill, _

_ She had her demons, baby girl,_

_ And she heard from someone,_

_ Poor advice: slay them, don't act so small,_

_ And so she did, but the demons weren't demons at all,_

_ It was a boy and now he's dead,_

_ And the girl's soul wants to pay this debt,_

_ So she runs to meet the waves,_

_ Oh, what a haunting story this song tells._

It's stuck in my mind and it won't go away. I've been hearing it all around me for the past couple of days. The trees hum it with the help of the dead rustling leaves, the river buzzes like the girl's muffled scream and the boy, the particular one, who told her to _slay, _I see him every night.

I wonder how little this girl was and what haunted her so much that she decided to kill someone. And who on Earth told her to do so...?

As I enter the oldest building in the town, abandoned centuries ago by some loner who thought it'd be great to leave it with dozens of carpets lying on the ground or hung on the walls, I immediately tense trying to sense anyone's possible presence. You never know these days, who's lurking in the shadows and this exact person might be out there trying to hunt you down.

I look out of the window and notice the night sky. It shines with thousands of stars, one particularly light, spreading it's glow as if to announce its supremacy. There's a strange sensation in my stomach whenever I glance at it. Raven says we're made of stardust and that's why people keep looking at the night sky as if to recall their home. _Maybe she's right._

**I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, I'd like to ask you guys for some reviews since I'm not sure whether to continue writing it or not. Also, English isn't my first language, so if there are any mistakes (I hope not!), please let me know so I can correct them. Love you all!**


	2. II

**Hello, everyone! Here goes the next chapter, I hope you'll like it. Enjoy!**

II

_We are the places we end up in; they're our flesh, bones and skin._

\- Mountain Men proverb

There are four groups of people in my area.

_The Grounders_\- they are the largest category. They live on the other side of the river, near the forest or in it. They paint their skin around eyes black or some other strange markings on their skin so as to emphasize their affiliation to the gang. They're excellent healers with their herbs, potions and the knowledge of the plants growing in the woods. Characteristics: _dangerous, hostile, cunning, clever, sly, vengeful._

_ The Reapers_\- not to be messed with. They live in the tunnels under the town and in the woods. Sometimes one can be met in some dark alley on the suburbs. They're the worst gang thanks to their cruelty and brutality. They can be easily deceived and manipulated though, with their infinite stupidity as one of their traits. Characteristics: _savage, ferocious, inhuman, brainless, naive, fierce._

_ The Mountain Men_\- these are difficult to define. They live in the highlands near the Mount Weather. Much to my dismay, they pose as a nice bunch of intellectualists with kind hearts and pure intentions. Don't be fooled. They'll do everything it takes to survive and that's why they have the upper hand in every deal they make. Characteristics: _hospitable, tricky, treacherous, deceitful, smart, durable._

_ The Sky people- _it is considered that everyone outside the other three groups, belongs to this one. That would mean that I'm one of them. It's actually nothing related to any special bond, it's just that there's a silent agreement between all those who don't belong to any gang, meaning that we try to protect each other, so we don't fall prey to the members of the other groups. Characteristics: _loyal, sharp-witted, persistent, brave, skillful, relentless._

I'm not particularly interested in being associated with the Sky people, but it's not like I have a choice. Every gang is dangerous and it's better to have someone covering your back, than actually being left alone as an easy target.

The sky is still darkish as I wake up. There's still some time left 'till sunrise, so I get up and decide to grab some food. I leave the building and close the door. Hilarious, isn't it? I have the key to an abandoned building. I remember when I found it weeks ago lying under the doormat. The doormat says _You're NOT welcome _by the way, but I thought it'd be smart to at least give it a try and I did. For now, that's my only safe haven, but I'm not big on home decor, so it still looks as if nobody lived there. The walls are cracked and full of cobweb (which I hate though), the already mentioned carpets hang on the walls or lie on the floor and there is a one huge chandelier for every room. There's a shabby bathroom with no mirrors or washbasins, a tiny kitchen with a sticky countertop and a couple of shelves. There's even a fridge! (which I don't use), a living room and my bedroom, which consits of a mattress that serves as my bed. I like it. I still have to get used to calling it _my house, _because these golden, Victorian, posing-as-diamond chandeliers are quite odd and these carpets in arabic patterns and vivid colours sometimes make me dizzy. It's peculiar and exceptional, but it's all I've got.

I head to a small bar opened twenty-four hours, seven days a week. Raven used to work here, but she decided that making stuff for shadow economy and black market was more fun. I guess she was right after all, since working here means spending twelve hours on your feet _every day._ The salary's not impressive and the place is quite suspicious itself, with its rather bizarre customers and a wicked boss. I've always suspected it of money laundering, because let's be honest here, why would there be any other reason to keep such a den?

The walls are painted yellow, but the colour is almost invisible under the thick layer of dirt and the mysterious liquor spilt all over them. There are two sofas to each table, but I choose to sit by the counter, since the couches are stained with alcohol, hamburger sauce and even blood. This place's infamous for its evening fights, usually caused by some drunk customers. As I lean my arms on the counter, I notice a couple of words carved in the wood. It actually turns out to be a whole sentence: _We are grounders._ It's strange though... Grounders wouldn't write it, because they don't usually show up at places like this one and additionally... They treat their name as if it was something special, an invented name even. They surely would write it from the capital letter.

I avert my eyes from the sentence and glance at the menu hanging on the wall in front of me.

'Clarke', I hear someone before I actually see them. I focus my gaze at the boy covering the menu with his body.

'What's up, Miller?', I grin at him. It's a tall youngster around my age with a sharp-witted sense of humour and an impressive criminal record.

'Haven't seen you in a while. What is your wish?', he asks with a huge smile on his face. I like this guy, he's easy-going, smart and loyal. He's my friend and I don't have many of them.

'Scrambled eggs, please', I say after a moment of hesitation.

'Your wish is my command', he answers with a wink and disappears.

I look around as the morning sun announces its presence with the sunrays shining through the light pink curtains. I turn my eyes away from the window as the bell hanging just above the doors rings. I glance at the sun and close my eyes right after. It's such a warm, pleasant feeling. The sun doesn't show up too often in this region. It's usually cloudy, dusty and windy.

'You've got some balls to come here after yesterday's fight', I hear Miller as he places a plate just in front of me. _Wait, what fight...?_

'I was just defending myself', I turn around just to see a young woman sitting on a chair next to me. She has brown hair, dark eyes and she's simply beautiful. She stares at me, but I don't avert my eyes.

'Octavia', she says with a smile.

'Clarke', I reply. I want to say something more, but the smell of my breakfast makes my guts squirm. I haven't eaten anything for two days and counting.

'You're an egg-genius', I exclaim as I finish my dish and seconds later Nate shows up with a grin.

'Yeah, heard that somewhere already', he answers and takes my plate.

'Can you make me some coffee, please?', I plea dramatically and Octavia laughs.

'Maybe if you didn't get up before sunrise you'd be more rested?', Miller teases me as I receive a cup of black coffee. Honestly, I hate its taste. I just got really used to drinking it.

'Maybe if you minded your own business, you wouldn't have to serve it to me', I say and immediately regret this. I never know when to bite my tongue and I'm afraid I crossed the line with this one.

'Relax, Clarke, you know I'm only saying it because I care about you', he says with a soft smile playing on his lips.

'Of course I know that', I wink at him. I want to talk to Octavia, but I really don't know what to say, since she's a hero of quite a disturbing urban legend. Everyone knows everything _about_ her, but no one really knows _her_.

'So... how's the shooting thing going?', he blurts out. No, sure, let's just tell the whole world about it, it's not like anything involving guns is illegal or anything.

I stare at him angrily for a couple of seconds without saying a word.

'What shooting thing?', Octavia, who's been sitting quietly for the past five minutes, gets interested in this particular subject. Why is my life so _great_?

'Miller's got some wicked fantasies. Nothing important, just a child's game', I say firmly. My mom used to say that: _a child's game- _something insignificant, trivial, irrelevant. It's not an actual saying, but you've only got what you've learned at home, so I use it quite often. Octavia seems a bit confused about it though.

'I can shoot', she says. She's lying I can tell, but I'm not giving her out.

'Well, maybe. Good for you, but careful. It's illegal around here', I drop a couple of banknotes on the counter and get up.

'See you around, guys', I say and leave before anyone can add anything.

I decide to go to the woods for some herbs and plants. My mom's a doctor. Like mother like daughter, I'm quite a good one too. I'm not the best when it comes to the knwoledge of the plants and its usage, but I'm trying to catch up. I need to be more skillful with it, because that's basically what I do for a living. I'm a doctor. Not a qualified one, which makes things pretty tough sometimes, but I have to make money to survive and this is the only way to do it. It's not like money's the only reason though, I really love helping people and treating them gives me a certain satisfaction, but I won't lie, it's the only source of income for me. As for the legality... Well. I guess saving someone's life is more important than law. Especially when this law is _shit_.

I step very carefully as I get closer to the woods. Grounders aren't the worst gang here, but they're not my friends either. The entrance to the forest is guarded by the river that doesn't allow you to actually walk in. The only way to make it through is to fly over it with the help of the liane hanging from the tree next to it. There's a rock under the liane, so it's easier to jump, but it gets extremely dangerous in the late Autumn, Winter and early Spring, because the current becomes fierce and rapid. Many lives were lost here, but it doesn't stop me from stepping on the rock and grabbing the liane. It's only late Summer after all. I cross the river and quickly search for the herbs.

I'm not welcome here just like anyone who's not a Grounder.

A couple of hours later I'm back on my side of the river with a backpack full of various herbs and plants. I wasn't eaten alive or thrown a spear at, so I'm content.

As I leave it in the old abanoned building, I look at my watch. There are nearly two hours left 'till my meeting with the shooter, but I decide to leave soon. The old warehouse hall is quite far away.

I pack a knife, some old chocolate bars, my last banknotes and a bottle of watter.

After a couple of minutes I'm ready to go. I close the doors and hide the key in my pocket.

I feel a strange sensation in my stomach as I think about the meeting. It's a mix of excitement, anxiety and fear.

Oh God, I hope they won't shoot me the second I show up there.

That would seriously suck.

**If you like the story or generally have any thoughts on it, I'd like you to review it to let me know about your feelings, it's really important to me. Hope you enjoy the story, I promise there will be some more action in the next chapters. Love you all!**


	3. III

**I promised more action and I kept my word... Enjoy!**

III

_Will you dance with me, darling?_

_Or will you kill me, too?_

_I saw innocent hearts_

_all torn by you_

\- a love letter written by a Grounder to a girl belonging to the Mountain Men society

It's already dark outside as I stand in front of the entrance to the old warehouse hall. It took me over an hour to get here and I can feel my legs' tight muscles. The sun's slowly disappearing from the horizon, the clouds are getting heavy and dark and the wind's playing with my hair tangling it and twisting. I stand on the asphalt just in front of the entrance and watch the surroundings. I keep my knife close to the wrist, gripped tightly by my watch strap. I notice a thick layer of fog seizing the highlands a couple of kilometres from here.

_Just get it over with, Griffin._

I enter the building stepping carefully. I'm noiseless, but whoever's here must be too. I stop in the middle of the hall and look around. It's dark inside, almost as dark as outside, so I see practically nothing, but I think this place must be empty since it's abandoned. Looking at it from my own house perspective though...

Someone holds a gun against my back. _Great._ I should've stayed next to the entrance, _damn._

My senses sharpen. I hear somebody's calm quiet breath and my own. I'm trying to keep it quiet, but I hope whoever it is, doesn't hear my rapid heartbeat. I shouldn't have come here, I should've just got that gun on my own, I shoud've set up this meeting on my own terms. It was an incredibly stupid idea to come here in the first place, the warehouse hall is near the dangerous woods, even now I can hear the river's fierce current, the soft melody of some careless bird. Doesn't it know that the fastest way to get killed and eaten is to be loud and lax...?

'Turn around' the stranger says in a low quiet voice. I hate being ordered around, but does obedience even count when you have a gun pointed at you?

Slowly, I turn my head and my body follows. The weapon is moved away from my body.

I breathe easily and measure the stranger's posture. It's a young man, around twenty years old, with dark brown hair, sharp cheekbones. His eyes are the colour of dark woods or rich soil.

I can't really see anything else since we're standing in the darkness, but he stares at me too.

'Clarke', I reach out my hand in a rush of a sudden bravado. My voice's stern, unforgiving. Even if he's surprised, he doesn't show it.

'Bellamy', he says and shakes my hand. He has a strong grip, so before he can crush my small hand in his, I pull it back.

'Why did you point a gun at me?' I honestly have no idea why this is the first thing that comes to my mind as we stand here in the dark.

'I wanted to make sure it was you', he replies unimpressed. I want to ask how he figured it out, but I bite my tongue. Excessive curiosity means lack of knowledge, which is a sign of weakness.

'Am I supposed to shoot in the darkness? I can as well try to bulild an atomic bomb. The result of both equals inevitable disaster if you couldn't tell', I remark. Like I said, I rarely ever know when to shut up.

'Charming. The answer is no. Let's go, shall we, princess?', he says it in a commanding voice. I hesitate for just a moment, but he's already left the building. He walks with an automatic gun in one hand, his posture betraying him as a confident asshole. _Well_, perhaps it's not exactly what it shows, but whatever his body doesn't say, his behaviour rounds out.

We walk for about five minutes until he stops rapidly. I almost bump into him. _Damn_, I have to pull myself together. There's nothing around us besides some useless weed, dozens od dandelions and something that looks like a manhole.

Bellamy opens it and disappears inside. I have no other choice, but to follow. As I clench my hands on the ladder, I look around trying to see something through the overwhelming darkness.

We're in some sort of tunnel. I actually recognize it...

'Hey, I've been here', I whisper to myself with a small smile dancing on my lips. It was a couple of months ago, I used a different entrance to walk in, but I got to this exact place. I was searching for a house back then, I even found something here. Some metres away from here there's a bed with clean sheets, candles that were never lit up, shelves covered in a thick layer of dust, some barrels and plenty of cans with old overdue food. I ended up deciding that living under the ground wasn't my thing. Besides, the Reapers are known for hiding somewhere in these tunnels, so I was just trying to avoid unnecessary risks.

I touch the rugged wall and feel the moisture under my fingertips.

Bellamy turns on his torch and lights up two candles stuck in the cracks of the wall. I watch him carefully as he pulls a gun out of some barrel. I turn my head just to see something like a shield with a targen drawn on it a couple of metres away from where we're standing. Bellamy reaches his hand out, there's an automatic gun it it, I guess it's for me. I almost grab it, but he draws his arm back. Before I have a chance to comment on it, he interrupts me with his own surely brilliant thought.

'Why do you want to learn how to shoot?', he says in a demanding tone. His back is straightened up, his chin is up and I keep wondering where he learnt such discipline. It annoys me though, the way he holds these guns as if I couldn't just reach for them.

'Why do you want to teach me?', I blurt out and that comes as a shock to me. Because this is actually a legitimate question. What did Raven offer him? Why did he agree? What is he going to make _me _do?

I lift my chin up waiting for the answer. Surprisingly, he's quiet for a moment. For once, I stunned him. I almost feel proud of myself.

'Who said I _want_ to do it?', he says sarcastically after a while and gives me the weapon. _No, no, no._ Something's wrong here. What is the favor _he_ gets? He looks impatient, vexed even. I decide to leave it for now and turn around. The target's about ten metres from me. I lift my gun trying to hold it with one hand and support with another.

'You know it's probably not the greatest idea to shoot here. Reapers used lurk in these tunnels', I point out and raise the weapon. It produces a thin beam of red light.

I fire the first shot and miss the target. I hear a quiet sigh behind my back. Seconds after I feel somebody's fingers behind my back.

'_Jesus Christ...!'_, I rapidly turn my head right and almost hit it with Bellamy's. He looks unimpressed though, he doesn't move his head even for an inch.

'Relax, it's just me', he says quietly, I can feel his breath on my ear. He senses my gaze and for a second our eyes meet. He then moves his fingers and uses them to lift my right arm.

'You're right-handed, right? So lift this arm and use the left one to support it... there', he says and uses his other hand to move mine further on the weapon.

'Move your right leg further to lean on it', he says and I avert my eyes to follow his instructions. He steps away from me so he no longer embraces me. I guess that's my cue. I feel my hair slipping from the hairpin and covering my face.

'Could you...?', before I can finish the question, Bellamy touches my cheeks with his fingers and moves my hair away from my face. I'm barely aware of how gentle that gesture is as he uncovers my vision.

I calm my breath before firing the shot.

It hits the target just inches away from the red spot in the middle.

I hit the target a couple of times more, but I just can't hit the red dot. It frustrates me to no end. I better my position and focus on the target _one more time._ This has to work somewhen for God's sake...

'What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?!', I yell at Bellamy as he appears just in front of the target seconds before I was about to fire.

'You didn't hear me saying that we should leave, so I guess it was worth the risk' he says and for the first time I see some sort of a smile on his face. On second thought, it's more like an irritating smirk.

'I could've shot you!', I reply with a glaring disbelief written all over my face.

'Don't flatter yourself, you probably would've missed anyway. You're not focused anymore. We should get going', he says flatly. I gaze at him for a few seconds. He stands just in front of me, his look unapologetic, demanding the weapon. I glare at him and realize something. This is our last meeting, I can see it in his eyes. I never actually agreed to these terms. I've been thinking about this deal and ever since Raven told me about it, I knew what I was going to do. Giving me one of his weapons is a plain waste and the only benefit from it goes to me. So I'm just going to take it whether he likes it or not. Possessing any weapons is illegal, getting them is even harder if not impossible. There are bloodbaths on the streets, brutal murders comitted in the darkest alleys of the town and gang fights. My friend was caught in the crossfire and died.

I don't plan on getting myself killed.

'Look, this gun is mine, so if you don't give it back, I'll have to take it myself', he says unimpressed, but I'm not impressed either.

'_Try_', I shake my head in disbelief and a sudden rush of boldness. I notice his gun lying on the table next to him just a moment before he does. He lifts it in one swift movement and points at me, but my weapon is already pointed at him. We stand like this for a couple of seconds, in front of each other, with about a two-metre distance between us, our guns raised and ready to fire.

Another harsh realization hits me. He is certainly _not_ my friend and his help isn't a mere act of kindness or some kind of a whim. He'll leave me high and dry with one quick lesson and no gun whatsoever. _That_ is exactly why I'm about to keep this gun, I'm not a quitter.

'_Lower the weapon_', he demands, pronouncing every word as if it was a seperate sentence.

'I'm not stupid', I grit my teeth.

'You most certainly are, princess', he mocks me in a serious voice. I suddenly become aware of how my posture looks like compared to his. He's a shooter, I'm more of a fighter. Perhaps I could fight him if it didn't involve automatic weapons. Perhaps...

I almost choke on my saliva when I spot the red beam of light aimed at my chest, just above the gun that I'm holding. _Is he seriously going to shoot me?_ I'm so focused on keeping a straight face and controlling my tight muscles, that I barely notice the sound coming from the depth of the tunnel. I'm almost positive it's the Reapers. Bellamy turns his head around, clearly surprised. The screams come from the tunnel behind him.

My heart beats wildly as I turn around and run as fast as possible. There's a ladder just three metres from me, it leads to the surface. All of it happens in about three seconds.

I'm already on the ladder. I throw the belt of the gun around my neck and under my right arm. I open the manhole...

'Hey!', I hear Bellamy shouting, but I'm almost there, I can already see the surface...

My calf is pierced with a sudden sharp pain. I scream, but it's lost amongst the noise coming from the below.

The Reapers are here.

I got shot.

_Oh my God, oh my God..._

I crawl to the ground. I'm on the surface.

I can't move, I cannot breathe. My right leg is on fire, the pain is piercing, almost unbearable. I get on my feet with dizziness blurring my vision. I close the manhole and limp a couple of metres. I have over an hour to get to safety, he won't fight these animals forever. I have over an hour...

This thought makes me unsteady and desperate. I was desperate once. It resulted in this. The circle's full, the lesson's learned. I look at my calf, it's covered in thick, dark red blood. This is not good, the bleeding makes everything worse. I should stop it, wrap it with something... _Wait_. Where's my backpack...?

I turn my head around and realize I left it in the tunnel. _No, no, no_. I can't come back, I have to go home. I have to go to Raven, she'll help me. I limp a few more metres, I think I'm going to pass out before I even get to the road. I can't do this, my leg hurts so much I have tears in my eyes. I've never cried out of pain, even though I've been severely beaten a couple of times already.

_God, help me, I'm so weak._

I trip on a rock and fall to the ground, hitting my head in the process. With the last glimpses of consciousness comes a terrifying thought. _I will die here_. I feel like crying, but my eyes are dry. I turn on my back and watch the night sky. I feel a stream of blood on my temple, then on my cheek. It's such a beautiful night, I almost regret I sacrificed so much for a mere weapon. I tried to save myself and accidentally ended up dying. Isn't life ironic? I watch the sky, it's covered in stars and I _want _to see it again. I try to get up this one more time, but gravity pulls me to the ground. I'm so heavy, and my leg feels like it had a weight of a ton. I'm barely conscious anymore, I'm trying not to close my eyes, but I can't resist it...

I feel someone's fingers on my neck checking my pulse. _Am I dead or not? _

Somebody's strong arms lift me from the ground, take away my weapon. _Wait..._

'Easy, easy', I hear a soft voice, I heard it somewhere, but it sounds different now. _Have I gone mad? _I want to open my eyes, but the gentle swaying makes my eyelids heavy. Maybe if I fall asleep I won't feel this excruciating pain. _Maybe if I fall asleep..._

**I've been working really hard on this one, I hope I made it right. Let me know if there are any mistakes or generally your thoughts, I'm really curious whether you liked their first encouter...**


	4. IV

**I just want to say thank you to the person who wrote the first review for this story. It just made me so incredibly happy, that someone used their precious time to let me know that they like my story like thank you so, so much! I dedicate this chapter to you, who motivated me and inspired me to write it. Thank you, whoever you are, princess. I hope you'll like it. Enjoy!**

IV

_We were born in the crossfire_

_We live in the gunfire_

_Our love is blazing_

_And we'll burn_

_\- When we all go up in flames_ by Harper of the Sky people

My mama has always fought for the lives of all the people. One could say she's an altruist, but she's more than just that. She's capable of doing despicable things in order to save as many lives as possible. She's capable of sentencing people to death, if only to save the others. Sounds like a cruel paradox, but her intentions are pure and her heart suffers from all the souls she sacrificed.

I used to think that me and my mum were different. I _wanted _it to be this way. But we're the same blood, I am my mother's daughter. I just don't succeed in saving people as much as she does.

I cannot even manage to save _myself._

'We're almost there', I can hear a familiar voice from the distance. I wish I hadn't woken up, I wish I hadn't regained my consciousness. I don't want to open my eyes, but curiosity turns out to be stronger than my desire to stay in denial.

I lift my eyelids, but my vision's blurred making me dizzy.

Suddenly I no longer feel the nightly fresh air or swaying or the stormy wind playing with my hair. Strange sounds of the woods are silenced and the leaves don't rustle behind me. It's warm here, this kind of warm that you experience... _inside_. I'm in someone's house.

'Bellamy, I was just about to... What the bloody _hell_...? What did you do...?', I hear a familiar, female voice. I cannot match it to any person, but I heard it somewhere already. It's quiet now, almost whispering, struck by surprise, shock and dismay.

'I shot her', he says quietly and lays me down on some sort of wooden table. I no longer feel his warm arms around me and I unconsciously bent my right knee. It hurts.

_I shot her. _It sounds regretful and it makes me wonder about the last couple of hours.

_I remember._

'You _what_...? Wait, it's... it's Clarke, I know her! Where did you even...?', the girl stutters. I try to open my eyes once again, but I have a terrible headache. I feel like my brain's going to explode.

'You have to help her, Octavia or she'll die here', he says regaining composure in his voice.

'Yeah, sure, no pressure... Give me my medical kit', she says and approaches me. I force myself to open my eyes.

'Good to see you, Octavia', I slur and smile faintly. She looks surprised and relieved, perhaps she thought I was unconscious.

'Clarke, you've got to help me', she pleas quietly as Bellamy appears behind her.

'Of course... Just...', I turn my body to lie on my stomach.

'Cut the material on my right trouser leg. Clean the blood to see the wound...', I instruct her and struggle to stay conscious.

'Done', she says as I try not to scream. It already hurts, I don't want to imagine what's next.

'Cut my skin and remove the bullet. Do not move it, just get it out', I order her and notice Bellamy getting a seat just in front of me. He reaches his hand to grab mine, but I pull it back. I don't want his pity. I quickly change my mind though, when I feel Octavia cutting my skin. I clench his hand so strong it hurts. I grit my teeth and close my eyelids tightly. I have no anesthesia. _I wish you were here, mother. Maybe you could spare me this pain._

'It's done', Octavia says as she finishes stitching, her voice serious and stern.

'Thank you', I breathe out and struggle to sit. I release Bellamy's hand from my steel grip.

He throws my right arm around his neck and grabs my waist from behind. I'm too exhausted to protest, so I just let him lead me into the darkness. We end up in someone's room. He places me on a bed and leaves before I have a chance to say anything. There's a commode, a nightstand and a bed. I take off my jacket and shoes with a sigh. The moonlight creeps into the room giving away its glow through the dirty window. I want to comprehend the events from the past hour, but my brain doesn't cooperate, so I just lie down and smell the scent of the sheets. There's no perfume here, only _somebody_'s smell, a specific and unique one that everyone possesses. I breathe it in and before I have a chance to dwell on it, I lose myself in sweet dreams.

I wake up in the middle of the night. I still feel pain in my leg, but it's not what awoke me. My dad used to say that I have some sort of a twisted sixth sense. I could always feel someone's presence in the room. Call it a blessing or a curse, it keeps me wide-awake and restless, but I believe it might save me someday. Someday might be today.

I sense someone behind me, they entered the room noiselessly, but I can just_ feel _them. My back's turned to the door, so slowly I pull my knife from under my watch's strap. I wait a moment before they get closer...

I turn around rapidly with my knife drawn out in front of me.

'Don't do this _ever_ again', someone grabs my wrist at the very same time as if they foresaw my move. It's dark, but he leans close to my face, so I recognize him. It's Bellamy.

'What are you doing here? Came to finish what you started?', I snort gripping my fingers tight on the knife.

'Octavia told me to check on the bandage', he replies. I glare at his hand and he releases my wrist. I sit up and uncover my right leg. There's no blood, so the stiches are holding.

'I didn't ask for your help', I say firmly and glance at him. I hope he'll figure out that by _help _I meant carrying me here.

'I shot you. I owed you this', he replies not looking at me. _I shot you._ The sun is hot, the water's wet.

'Is that all you have to say to me?', I retort unwaveringly.

'I had my reasons to do what I did and you're not innocent either. You planned it all along. You're a thief', he says with a spark of amusement in his voice.

'In what world is stealing equivalent to shooting someone?', I ask in disbelief, but it sounds more like a sentence.

'In ours for instance', he replies flatly. The accuracy of this statement hits me. There's a death penalty for any crime committed in our country. Not that it excuses him in any sort of twisted way. If he thinks that the law we have to abide is in any way righteous then he's brainless.

'You're an idiot', I say.

'Clarke, I didn't plan on shooting you, allright? You did something incredibly dumb, so I had to do what I did', he replies and glares at me.

'Oh, right, sorry, I forgot it's _my_ fault after all...' I say ironically, but Bellamy doesn't give me a chance to finish my rant as he interupts me.

'Are you stupid or just want to get yourself killed?', he looks right into my eyes. The intensity of this stare makes me question his motives. I realize that his question's related to the earlier events of the day. I don't understand the way he says it, I don't see how I was going to get myself killed besides him shooting me.

'What do you care? You should've just left me there to die. I don't want your pity', I spit out leaving my thoughts tangled.

'You're right, princess. Sorry it turned out this way', he says sarcastically and gets up leaving me confused.

He shot me, he saved me, he didn't kill me. What is the motive? Am I wrong about something? I can feel the pain in my calf, see the stern expression on his face, his rough hands covered in scars. I can recall his warm tight arms around me, his voice full of regret, his eyes trying to escape mine, trying to tell me something. Why can't he just tell me? Perhaps it's something too despicable to be said out loud. Perhaps I was right about his intentions and he hides a secret so heavy it's a burden. Perhaps he's just a clinical shooter with his thoughts so tangled and twisted he cannot embrace them all. Maybe he wanted to save me from something I cannot yet see. Maybe he wanted to kill me, but I got away.

I shake my head to get rid of all the bewildering thoughts. I don't have time nor desire to guess all the warped ways his mind walks through. I have enough confusion to deal with on my own.

I need to get out of here before the sun rises.

It's past four a.m. My leg still hurts, but I feel better and get up to look through the window. It's still dark outside, but I put on my shoes and my leather jacket. I hide my knife under the belt, close to my hip and try to lean my body on the right leg. It hurts and it feels like the stiches are about to rip apart, but I've never been keen on self-pitying. I unconsciously make the bed and leave the room stepping noiselessly in the darkness. I look around to avoid colliding with any furniture and quietly make my way down the stairs. I wince as I step on a broken stair. The cracked wood makes a painfully loud growl, but I don't stop. I walk through the kitchen and reach for the doorknob.

'Where do you think you're going?', I hear a quiet female voice behind me. I hesitate for a moment and turn around to face her.

'I'm leaving. Thank you so much for saving my leg, my life and fixing what your brother's done. I really appreciate that', I say as she tilts her head as if to detect bullshit in my voice.

'Yeah, fixing my brother's mess is always fun. I'm going with you', she says grabbing her jacket.

'Look, Octavia. Bellamy shot me once and I don't really like the idea of taking the bullet from him ever again. And this will surely happen once he finds out you left your house in the middle of the night. With _me_', I utter carefully.

'It's not like you forced me. If he wants to do anything to anyone, he'll have me to deal with first. And he won't do anything to me. I'm going with you', she repeats with a grin. I can't help but smile back, Octavia's such a radiant person. I open the door and leave their house with Octavia by my side. Perhaps it's not such a bad idea after all. At least she knows where we are.

'Are we next to the Reaper's entrance to the tunnels?', I ask her as we move forward. She nods.

'Miller's bar is about half of an hour from here', she says.

'We'll pay him a visit. I'm starving', I reply and she smiles, but it fades after a moment. She turns her head to face me and looks at me seriously.

'Why did Bellamy shoot you?', she asks trying to hide curiosity in her voice. I avert my eyes and focus them on the road. That's a good question.

'I... I stole a gun from him and escaped. Well, actually I ended up with no gun at all, but...', I'm interrupted by Octavia.

'Here', she stops and gives me my backpack. I'm too surprised to say anything. I didn't even notice it hanging on her back. I open it and my eyes widen.

'Octavia...', I gasp looking at the automatic weapon inside the backpack.

'I asked Bellamy the same question. He said you stole it from him, but these guns aren't his. He found them in the tunnels and distributes them to his people while others are left without protection. He brought your backpack, so I decided to give it to you after all. Especially after he shot you. My brother's such a dick sometimes', she rolls her eyes as I look at her in disbelief.

'Thank you', I say and these two words hold so much meaning, I'm not sure I conveyed all my feelings in them. She just grins.

'I love messing with Bellamy, so really no thanks needed. Besides, I know you're important to us. You're a doctor, so if you need protection, you deserve it', she shrugs.

'You're a pretty good doctor yourself. You could help me sometimes. We'd split the earnings', I smile at her. She's silent for a couple of minutes.

'You know, Clarke... I actually can't believe he shot you', she shakes her head. I feel a sudden urge to excuse him.

'Perhaps he did it, because I'm not the best shooter. If he let me out with a gun, someone would surely hunt me down and you know the punishment any crime takes. Besides, he's right. I'm a thief after all', I say reflectively.

'I can't believe you're defending him. In what world is stealing equivalent to shooting someone?', she gapes. I let out a small chuckle.

'I asked him the same exact thing. You know what he said? _In ours._', I cite his words, but they don't excuse him in any way. I'm not sure why I'm defending him either. It's just that... Octavia's so in love with him, her doubt in her own brother makes me uncomfortable. As if it was my fault.

We finally make it to the bar when it's already past five a.m. It's opened from six, but Miller has to come earlier anyway, so I'm sure he's already on his feet. He works the first shift from six a.m. to six p.m. and I just don't know how he endured so long in this job.

'It's closed, Griffin', he says with a grin as he notices me walking through the front door.

'Then you should've locked the door', I reply and sit by the counter. Octavia takes a seat next to me.

'I see that my bar forms new unexpected friendships', he says teasingly.

'It's not your bar and we're _waiting. _Where's the service?', Octavia retorts.

'Scrambled eggs and a black coffee, please', I say imploringly.

'Just a coffee for me', Octavia says and looks around.

'I used to think it was just a trashy bar, but it's really a den', I blurt out.

'I fought here once a couple of days ago. Bellamy says I shouldn't come here anymore', she answers lost in her thoughts.

'You got into a bar fight?', I ask incredulously.

'With a Grounder. He said... something. I got mad and the rest is history. I beat him though, he could barely walk', she says proudly. I figure that this _something_ had a lot to do with her childhood. I don't point it out though, just grin at her.

We eat our breakfast in silence, listening to some crazy, chaotic music coming from the radio placed on the counter.

'It's on me', I say as Octavia's about to pay her bill.

She wants to say something, but only smiles instead.

'You saved my life. I think that covering your bill is the least I can do', I add and pay for both our bills.

'My brother saved you', she replies. _Yeah_. After he almost killed me.

I keep my mouth shut though. I know how strong the bond is between the two of them and I know I don't stand a chance to fight her on this one. She was mad at Bellamy, but only because she thought he was being selfish and idiotic. I wonder what it feels like to have a sibling that looks after you and would do anything for you. I wish I had one.

'I need to go before Bellamy figures out that I'm gone', she says as we leave the bar.

'Obviously. Thank you. For everything', I repeat.

'Just don't steal anything from my brother anymore. And if you plan to do it anyway, take me with you. I want to have some fun in my life too', she says playfully and walks away.

Something about this statement gives me mixed feelings, but I don't dwell on it and decide to go to Raven. If there's someone who can help me figure out the events from the last night, it's her.

As I knock on her door reading the word _password_ for the hunderdth time, I wonder why I trusted the shooter in the first place. It could've been anyone, but I decided to meet him anyway. It's a strange thing though, trust. In friendships it's built throughout the years of shared experience and memories, but honestly we give it to everyone we meet. I made a stupid mistake and I wish I hadn't entrusted him with my life. He could've killed me. I could've done it too. When we were standing in front of each other, each of us ready to fight for our judgement. But what if it's wrong, clouded by personal prejudice and bias? What if I was wrong trying to steal the gun? I got shot. What if he was wrong about keeping it away from me? I could've shot him too. It's better to be the predator than the victim. It's better to have someone's blood on your hands than have someone stained in yours. Even if these hands are hard to wash. I hope his are. At least that would mean he has a conscience.

**I'm not exactly pleased with this chapter, but I hope you liked it anyway. It's kind of a filler, I needed this background to write the next one. Thank you for your favourites, follows, visits and of course reviews (but I've already mentioned it). It keeps me motivated and gives this story life. If there are any mistakes to correct, let me know and generally I'd love to know your thoughts on this story. Have a nice week!**


	5. V

**Hello, everyone! Okay, firstly, I want to thank so much for the new reviews. I don't think you understand how amazing they make me feel and how much of a motivation they are. I am truly grateful and just... thank you very much! I decided to write a chapter that has a bit different 'attitude' to it, but I hope that the atmosphere stays the same. Enjoy!**

V

_I'm not the kind of girl_

_that dances on her own_

_and drinks and fights_

_and leaves at the dawn..._

_\- I'm not this kind of girl: Part I_, by Gina Erck-Rilff of the Sky people

'How was I supposed to know you were about to steal his gun? Or that he'd shoot you?', Raven exclaims, her voice heistatating bewteen anger and amusement.

We sit in her kitchen eating the cheesecake she made. Honestly though, Raven made a pie! Who would've thought?

'Yeah, because that's so hilarious', I roll my eyes as she raises her eyebrow.

'You two are clearly meant for each other. I don't even know who's dumber. The thief and the shooter, what a joke', she laughs.

'You know it was actually you who set up this meeting, so it's your fault. You should've told me he was so...erratic', I pronounce precisely, looking for the perfect wording. She looks at me as if I was crazy.

'He's a _shooter _and the leader of the Skyers. What did you think he was like?', she grins.

'I'm not sure that _Skyers_ is a legitimate word', I laugh at her ridiuclous vocabulary.

'Thanks for the heads-up, Miss Perfect Vocabulary. I'll try to set up another meeting today', she says casually taking a sip of her coffee. She winces immediately after doing so.

'You _what_?! Are you out of your mind? I have his goddamn gun, Raven! I don't want to see the guy ever again', I exclaim forcefully as she looks at me with amusement.

'Whatever you want, Griffin. Just don't say I didn't warn you', she winks at me.

'Warned me from what? Enlighten me because my peasantlike mind doesn't seem to comprehend', I say sarcastically.

'You'll eventually meet him, Clarke and you won't even see it coming', she says.

'Yeah, until then though, my personal seer, I'd like to inform you that I don't care. I have my gun, my leg will be fine, I'm a happy person', I say lightly with a grin as Raven laughs.

'You've got some guts, Clarke, to steal from him. Guts and no brain', she says looking at me.

'Like what, he's some patron saint of automatic weapons?', I roll my eyes.

It's already afternoon as we sit with Raven and talk. I got some sleep earlier and I finally feel alright. The sun is slowly making its way down the horizon and I'm much more relaxed in Raven's house. I can see things from different perspective and my leg's much better. Or maybe I just don't feel any pain thanks to the painkillers I took a couple of hours ago. They kind of make me feel high and I can't really think straight. Either way, last night seems more like and adventure just now, not a dangerous fight for my life.

'I see you're feeling better, just don't run to some wild party yet', Raven teases me and laughs.

'Hilarious', I reply with a smirk. 'How about you go with me, the party animal you are?'

'Sorry, but not today. I've got to some bullets to make', she says shrugging.

'_Bullets_? For who?', I ask suspiciously, but I think I already know the answer.

'Bellamy... He asked me a couple of days ago. He's my only source of income for now, so I've got to keep him pleased', she rolls her eyes.

'Pleased like _you can shoot my friend if you want to_ kind of pleased?', I say teasingly.

'I'm sorry, Clarke. Seriously, I am', she suddenly becomes serious.

'It's fine, really, it's not your fault', I say and it's true. I don't blame Raven for it. If anyone's to blame here, it's me. I should've planned it not just go there with one stupid intetion and no plan to realize it at all.

'I just have one more question', Raven says after a while and looks at me as if to ask for my permision.

'Shoot', I glance at her curiously.

'He did carry you to safety after all?', she half states half asks.

'Yeah. After he almost killed me, yes', I answer indifferently conveying into words the ridiculousness of that situation.

'I'm really sorry I made you go through this. I didn't realize he was so... mysterious', she says in a strange way.

'_Mysterious_? Are you for real? This guy's bloody insane', I roll my eyes.

'Said the one who isn't. Just... stay away from trouble, Clarke', she says with a playful smile.

'I'll try my best', I reply with a grin.

'These meds got you high. I hope it won't stay like this for too long, I miss my true, serious, absolutely-zero-fun-with friend', Raven says teasingly

'I can be fun', I retort outraged.

'Yeah, like when you're high or drunk, sure', she laughs.

'I'm leaving', I announce pretending to be offended.

'Go get some sleep, Clarke. I kind of like you like this though', she chuckles.

'I may or may not go to some bar today and you'll miss all the fun, because of some idiot', I retort and get up.

'This exact idiot keeps my money flowing, so I'm not complaining', she answers with a smirk.

'See you, Reyes', I wave my hand carelessly as I open the door.

'Make good choices', she exclaims and laughs.

It's not like I'm completely irresponsible. Perhaps I took a bit too much of my medicine and perhaps, just perhaps I did it on purpose.

I decide to go home after all. I used to go to the bar when it was just afternoon, because I really didn't have where to go, but lately I've been going there just to eat something. Actually, I remember one time last week, when I...

_Bloody hell. _

I stop abruptly and start walking in the different direction. I either just saw Bellamy Blake heading right to my house or I'm hallucinating.

I shouldn't have taken these damn meds, it messes with my head.

My walk is rapid and fast, I disappear around the corner and stop there. I breathe heavily and suddenly I feel a wave of laughter spreading through my body. Something is seriously wrong with me today.

But there's no way he'd find me here, no bloody way. I was checking every corner, going back every now and then, walking in the other direction, just to turn around in some dark alley and use the right way. I must be high and that's the only plausible explanation. I take a deep breath to calm myself down.

Besides, it's not like I'm scared.

I come out of shadows and step into daylight. I decide to go to the bar.

It's Friday, the worst possible day of the week to appear in the Miller's den. A lot of really suspicious folks finish their work for the week and come here to get drunk and provoke some useless bloodbaths. Not that it stops me from entering the bar.

Bright lights are flashing, some wild music's playing and the place's very crowded. It's not big, so even two dozens of people are enough to make it busy. Tonight however, there are much more drunkards, wicked criminals and some other outlaws, whose only riches can be found in their extensive criminal records.

I head to the bar as the sun disappears behind the horizon letting the sinful night take its rightful place. I sit next to the countertop and look around trying to notice anyone familiar, but I cannot really see anything through a thick layer of smoke and blinding lights.

'I finished my shift an hour ago, so no free drinks, sorry', I hear a familiar voice just next to me.

'Well I think I'll have to deal with it', I turn around to face Nate and smirk.

'No alcohol, today? I'm not saying you're a drunkard, but you know since that _accident_ a couple of months ago...', I don't let him finish the sentence.

'Piss off, Nate. Who said I wasn't going to drink?', I order myself some alcohol to forget about the things that he just brought to the surface.

For a second it's all quiet. I don't hear any music, shouts or laughter. There's a deafening silence between us and I freeze.

'All this pain... and it only made you _kind_', he finally whispers and leaves. It's a quote from a book, _We are Warriors_, one of my personal favourites. He doesn't say it with irony, but God knows he's lying. I might have become harsh, but it's only what I've been made into. It's not like I had a choice.

Slowly, with regular doses of the addictive liquor, I let myself relax and dwell on things such as the roundness of a dartboard or the guy sitting right next to me. He notices my gaze, but I don't avert my eyes. He smiles shyly and stares back.

'Clarke', I grin at him. I suspect he's Korean by the features of his face. His hair's dark just like his eyes.

'Monty', he smiles back.

'You from the Skyers?', I slur watching him carefully. There's something about him that makes me feel he's smarter than he shows.

'Yeah... I actually came with a couple of friends from the Sky too', he replies looking around but clearly he doesn't notice anyone familiar.

'I guess they must be lost in the midst of this wild crowd. Make sure they're safe, I can already sense some bloody fight coming', I say grinning.

'Oh, no, no, that's not the case. If anything, _my friends_ will be the ones to start it', he rolls his eyes as I chuckle.

'I think I may have to dance away some of this alcohol in my veins', I say and get up unsteadily.

'Pleasure to meet you', he answers with a friendly smile.

'You too, Monty. See you around', I nod and leave.

_If anything, my friends will be the ones to start it._ I bet you've got some nasty friends, mate.

The dancefloor is crowded, but I find some space in the middle of it. It doesn't take me long to feel the rhythm of the music, the pulsing of my heartbeat, tense bodies all around me. Alcohol's really starting to work on me and I dance wildly to the chaotic music, lost among the faceless crowd. It's almost as if the time stopped. I don't know what's happening to my mind, but for a moment, I _forget_. All of memories are erased, besides one.

There's a boy, his eyes the colour of dark woods with dangerous shadows lurking within... or rich soil, so deep you can get lost among all the tunnels and crannies. Dark woods or rich soil, I can never tell.

There's a boy, his hands covered in scars, I think he's a warrior, a fighter with battle scars from all the terrible things he's done.

There's a boy, his eyes so innocent and sweet, I almost believe they reflect his soul and the scars are from all the obstacles he's overcome to protect his loved ones.

There's a boy his hands so warm and soft despite all the scars, I almost believe they never pulled the trigger.

I hold onto this memory to match it to some face, I want to know who he is. I sense someone's presence behind me and _I remember._

'Dance with me, princess', I feel someone's warm hand on my arm. I don't want to turn around, because even before I see his face, I know that's him. The boy, who I for a moment forgot. Sweet oblivion turns into bitter memory. His hand doesn't feel warm anymore and as I turn around to face him, I notice his eyes. They're not the colour of dark woods or rich soil. They're cold and unapologetic like this time during Autumn when Winter's about to come. His request sounds like a demand, said with such passion, heat and intensity, I almost believe he truly just wants to _dance with me._

**I'm trying really hard to make these little beginnings fit to the actual story and I know they might be confusing sometimes, so I'm sorry. I'd like to say that this exact one is going to have its 'Part II' in one of the next chapters, so if you want to, pay attention to them. They might tell you something more about the story and its characters. (_Gina Erck-Rilff_ is the anagram of _Clarke Griffin_\- just trying to make it all look less random...) I hope you liked the chapter, if there are any mistakes, please, let me know and of course I'd love to know your thoughts on this one.**


	6. VI

VI

_I may be dancing all alone tonight_

_and drinking a bit too much_

_I will get into a fight_

_and leave this bar on fire_

_But I'm just not this kind of girl_

_\- I'm not this kind of girl: Part II_, by Gina Erck-Rilff of the Sky people

_Dance with me. _

I turn around to face him. Without a word, he puts his hand on my waist and lifts my hand to tangle his fingers with mine. I avoid his piercing stare and close the distance between us. I don't want him to know that I'm unsteady or confused, so I just place my free hand on his shoulder and bring my cheek close to his. I feel his breath on my ear and I shiver. It's such a surreal situation, I'm not sure whether he's real or just a product of my overactive imagination.

'How did you find me?', I ask quietly hiding curiosity in my voice. It's hard though, because I'm not sober and I can't really control what's coming out of my mouth. The music's slow now with some sentimental spark to it. We dance just as slowly, almost not moving.

'Wasn't easy, I'll give you that', he replies with amusement. What's so amusing here? I might slit his throat if he dares to break into my house or follow me ever again. But that's not what I want to say, something else bothers my mind as I try to keep the escaping thought from falling to pieces. It's hard though, the way he holds my waist makes it difficult to focus.

'Why did you find me?', I slur and pull my head back to look him in the eyes. It's clear that I'm unsteady and drunk as I practically lean on him. His eyes are sparkling and vivid, but I'm not sure whether it's the effect of the flashing lights or something else.

'I don't know, maybe because you've stolen something from me?', he says ironically his eyes tracing down my cheekbones, embracing my lips then looking up to meet my gaze. I feel a sudden rush of heat spreading from my neck to my cheeks, leaving my skin hot and burning.

'Liar', I blurt out. Surprisingly, I can see more of the story right now and I can tell that he's lying. The way he says it, is it really so _invalid_? Or was there some other reason he chased me all the way from his own house?

'You cannot run from me, princess._ I'm sorry_', he whispers looking straight into my eyes, something about the way he says it frightens me. His apologies sound honest, regretful even. Last time I heard him talk like that was after he shot me. As if he was really sorry for what he's done. I glare at him, my eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what's wrong.

'What did you do, Bellamy?', I ask quietly not quite expecting the answer, but I just can't resist it. I want to know the truth, he plays with me all the time, but I'm just a pawn in this game.

He opens his mouth, but I'll never know whether he wanted to tell me the truth or sell another lie, because right in this moment something hits my arm pulling me to the ground. I see the attacker's posture for a second before I lie on the sticky floor.

I no longer feel Bellamy's warm hands, our dance is over.

I can feel alcohol getting to my head as I get up to see the young man involved in a violent fight with some other youngster.

'Hey!', I yell and grab his shoulder fiercely to turn him around. I won't be anyone's casualty.

'Clarke!', I hear a familiar voice from behind, but it's muffled, hollow. I clench my fist as it flies to meet the young's man face. He smirks with confidence trying to mask his confusion. He doesn't even see it coming.

The force of the hit almost drags him to the ground. For a second, I realize that I'm drunk, but the thought of having no control over my body is easily replaced with dizziness. He gets up surprisingly quickly and my reaction is slowed down by alcohol. I see his fist for a moment before it hits my cheek. The blow makes me back off a few steps, but I'm fueled by a red burning flame of anger and adrenaline circulating in my veins. It's almost as if I didn't feel any pain at all.

I grab his jacket and punch him once more, this time I'm applauded by whistles and screams coming from the other clients. Evening fight is always fun, right?

The stranger lies on the ground, but struggles to get up. As I reach out my fist to beat him down, I feel someone's strong arm gripping mine from behind. I turn around rapidly, hitting him with my free one. It's left, the weaker arm, but the blow leaves its mark anyway. It's a pity though, because he's not just another stranger. His cheekbone is bleeding as he turns his head to face me, his eyes burning with wild rage.

'_Stop it_', Bellamy grits his teeth as he grips both of my arms preventing me from moving them. I'm too dazed to comprehend what I've just done, so I let him pull my arm and drag me out of there. I can hear muffled screams from behind me, I've provoked yet another fight. It's going to be a long, bloody night for the clients of the bar.

Once we're outside I trip and struggle to regain my balance. Bellamy sighs as he throws my arm around his neck and grabs my waist from behind. It reminds me of the time he did it in his house.

'You're going home, princess', he says clearly angry, his stare focused on the road ahead of us. I want to laugh as I remind myself that I hit him just seconds ago and now he's helping me get home.

'Sorry, I hit you', I slur, but my apologies sound fake as my voice's filled with amusement.

'You're such a pain in the ass, really', he snorts annoyed not looking at me.

'Why are you helping me then?', I retort trying to walk straight. He grips my waist even tighter and I wonder what's the matter.

There's a silence between us, the unanswered question hanging heavily in the air.

We're reaching my house just as I'm about to ask how he knows where I live. My mind gives me a quick flashback and I somehow manage to piece it together. It was him in front of my house after all, not my delusional imagination. I open my mouth to comment on it, but shut it immediately. He doesn't have to know everything _I_ know.

I pull the key out of my pocket and open the door. It takes me a while though, so Bellamy's more than eager to show his irritation. I sigh as we enter the building.

'So... what now? Are you going to search through my house or what?', I yawn and smirk at him ironically. Perhaps he's already done that, who knows?

'Now you're going to sleep', he says as we stand in the darkness. Well, _he _stands and I lean on him. I stare at him suspiciously, but my drunk mind's let my guard down, so I just shrug.

' Upstairs. Doors on the left', I say indifferently and let him lead me through the darkness.

As we reach the bedroom I'm barely awake. Bellamy gently places me on my bed and turns around.

'No goodnight _kiss_?', I mock him half asleep. It's not like I'm sober, but I think it's obvious, the way I said it like a _joke. _

I might be more careful with those in the future if I remember anything from this night, since I notice Bellamy leaning closer to me just as sarcastic smirk leaves my lips. I watch him carefully, my eyelids half closed, my mind suddenly alert. He places his hand on the bed frame and leans down to kiss my forehead. I stare at him, my heartbeat too rapid, too loud not to be heard amidst the silence of the night. He stays like this for a couple of seconds before pulling back and gazing at me.

'I still don't trust you, you know', I whisper. I want to sound more confident, unimpressed, but I decide to leave my voice quiet like this. I'm afraid I might not be able to control its tremor if I dare to say anything aloud.

'_Good_. You shouldn't', he replies quietly, his voice raspy, unapologetic. He still leans on the bed frame, his face so close I can count all of his freckles and wrinkles. When someone laughs a lot, they have a lot of wrinkles near the outer corner of the eye. He has none and I wonder why.

'Why?', I ask closing my heavy eyelids. This is the right question. _Why, why, why_? I have so many of these left unanswered, I wonder if I'll ever know the whole truth. Maybe it's better if I don't after all. This exact truth might get me killed for all I know about Bellamy.

'Goodnight, princess', he only says after a while of reflection. I want to reply, but my eyelids are to heavy and the world spins so fast I decide to just give in.

I dream about violent fights, early mornigs, Autumn leaves. It's all blurred, but one thing's sharp. Someone's eyes, regretful, sorrowful, honest, as I hold my my blade against their throat. I was wronged and he deserves punishment. I hesitate though, when I look into his eyes and he knows it as if he somehow sensed that it's my weak spot. _Eyes are the reflection of one's soul_, that's what my mum always said. And his are the colour of dark woods or rich soil, I can never tell.

It's light outside when I open my eyes. I feel a terrible headache as I try to raise my head. The sunlight's already reached my bedroom, so it must be late morning.

I struggle to get up and finally I succeed. Standing up doesn't seem like such a great idea after all, now when I feel my body trembling from the effort. I lean my hand against the wall and breathe heavily trying to recall the events from last night.

Nothing.

My mind's blank and the last thing I remember is meeting this guy... Monty in Miller's den, commonly and _very_ incorrectly known as a '_bar'._ Hilarious.

I head to the bathroom and take off my sweaty, dirty clothes. I check on my leg, but the stiches are just fine, so I look up and freeze.

I have a big cut on my right cheek, stretching from my cheekbone to the corner of my mouth. I touch it and hiss. It stings, so I leave it and take a quick shower so as not to use up too much water. It's not like the bill will pay itself.

I put on a fresh pair of scruffy jeans and a clean black blouse. I leave my hair wet and go downstairs holding the handrail to steady myself. I still feel dizzy and it's incredibly uncomfortable.

I can feel cracked wood underneath my bare feet, warm sunrays on my face and a sweet smell of freshly made pancakes. My dad used to make them when I was little, he always added lots of chocolate sauce and cream to make it even sweeter. It was almost sickening.

I smile at the thought and stop in my tracks. I won't see my dad in the kitchen. I'm not five years old.

There's someone in my house.

This thought makes me alert and confused at the same time.

I enter the kitchen noiselessly holding my knife in my right hand behind my back. I almost get a heart attack when I notice a familiar silhouette standing with a frying pan in one hand and a plate in the other.

'_Bellamy_...?', I utter not quite comprehending what's going on. He seems startled as he turns around to face me, but the expression is quickly replaced by a satisifed smirk.

'You don't have to be so hostile, I'm making you a breakfast. How rude of you, princess', he says casually and looks at the knife in my hand.

'What the hell are you doing here and who let you in?', I cross my arms, because the answer is obvious. _No one._

'You. Last night. Don't you remember how you attacked me, but the good man I am, I walked you home?', he smirks and puts the plate with the pancakes on the kitchen table.

'_I _attacked _you_? Do we live in the same world here or were you severely hit lately?', I stare at him in disbelief. My shock deepens as I notice his left eye. It's black. I approach him and stare at it for a few seconds. He glances at me suddenly dropping his carefree attitude.

'You really don't remember? _Anything_?', he asks suspiciously with a bit of disbelief in his voice. I take a step back and grunt.

'No, apparently, no. I'm counting on regaining my memory soon though. I want to know what it felt like punching this smug face of yours', I retort.

'Yeah, it was... truly fascinating. Now let's get to eating, shall we? We've got a long day ahead of us', he says casually, taking a seat opposite me. _We_? Interesting.

I sit down and carefully eat one of his pancakes.

'_What_? It's not like I poisoned it', he snorts as I chew.

'I still don't trust you, you know', I spit out.

'Good to know you haven't changed your mind', he replies, something strange about his voice. I feel like I was having a _deja vu_.

'I remember one thing', I say after a while of silence. Bellamy almost chokes.

'Yeah, like what?', he utters, his eyes narrowed.

'You're a liar', I say looking into his eyes.

'Isn't that strange, princess, that this exact thing you remembered, hm?', he glances at me as I try to sense his emotions.

'Maybe. Perhaps my mind's just really memorized it', I retort sarcastically, my eyes watching him carefully, trying to read his expression.

'Makes me wonder why', he says quietly as I put down my fork. Something happened and I wish I knew whether it's related to the events of the last night, which I still can't recall.

Whatever it is, I decide to play this game. I want to be the player too, not just a pawn.

**Hello, everyone! So. There was and there'll be plenty of confusing interactions between them and I just want to say, that you'll find out very soon what's going on with Bellamy's behaviour. And it's quite a twist (I hope), so I also hope you'll like it. Thank you for your motivation, your reviews make me fly and scream out of joy (literally) and obviously I'd love to know your thoughts on this chapter. Have a lovely week!**


	7. VII

VII

_They ask me about my weak spot_

_I say I have none_

_I have skills and a soul of a fighter_

_But my weak spot is my trust_

_And for that, I will burn_

_\- _inscription on The Great Grounders Wall by anonymous author

It's late morning when I leave my house. I'm not on my own.

'We're going to the woods', Bellamy says as he watches me hiding the key in my pocket. I look up to face him, but I already know that he won't answer my question, so I decide to ask about something else.

'How did you meet Raven?', I focus my eyes on the road. I'm curious about the answer, but more importantly, I want to distract him.

'I needed some gunpowder and I found her a couple of days ago. Then it turned out that she can make bullets too, so we made a deal and now I'm paying her for this', he says. I can feel warm sunshine on my face, but the sky is clouded and the wind's blowing, so I decided to take my jacket anyway. There might be a storm today. We're quiet for the next couple of minutes, I can see the forest from afar.

'You distribute weaponry to the Sky people, so that they can defend themselves from the other gangs, am I right? I saved one of yours a couple of weeks ago, the guy named Jasper. You might have not known it, but I'm telling you this now. You and your people need me', I claim confidently. That's what you have to be like around him. Otherwise he'll just not listen. At least that's what I concluded.

Bellamy stares at me for a couple of seconds, but I don't look at him, my eyes stay focused on the horizon in front of us.

Finally he turns his head away from me and sighs.

'What do you want, princess?', he asks, but it sounds more like a statement.

'You know what I want', I stop. The wind's tangling my hair as I try to embrace it. Bellamy stops too and stands just in front of me, covering the view and the sun.

'You have your stolen gun, isn't that enough?', he mocks me, but his gaze is stern and his eyes are serious.

'For saving the lives of your people and taking the bullet in return? _No_', I reply bluntly.

'Spit it out', he narrows his eyes.

'_Teach me_. Teach me how to shoot. I want to be as good as you are. No... actually, I want to be _better_', I say audibly pronouncing every word. He glances at me and then focuses his eyes on something above my head.

'Your wish is my command, princess, but I'm not on your orders today. I don't have enough bullets to waste on you and we don't have time for it', he turns around. I grab his arm to make him face me once again.

'You _will _do it or I'll leave your people to die', I spit out as he narrows his eyes.

'Not today, princess. Let's go', he growls and starts walking.

'What if I don't? You're gonna shoot me?', I mock him. Slowly, he turns around. It was a reckless question to ask as I notice an automatic gun by his belt.

'It's you I'm doing this for, so it's your choice, to follow or to die', he says quietly, gazing at me.

'I don't believe in the goodness of your heart, Bellamy. You've done something and your _help_ or whatever you call it, is a result of your bloody actions that will get me killed', I grit my teeth.

'If only you trusted me, princess, if only...', he says, a spark of amusement in his voice, but I don't buy it. I boost my pace and catch up on him.

'I did trust you once. And that one time you shot me, so sorry if after _that _I have some trust issues with you', I snort. He stops abruptly and I notice we're already next to the river that separates the woods from the rest of the world. Bellamy turns around and I almost bump into him. He's so close it's intimidating, but I don't back off.

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry for shooting you back then, but you and me, we have to live with it now. I won't tell you why, because you're too smart not to figure it out, but I'm truly sorry', he says almost sadly. It makes me wonder though, this pained spark in his tone.

'All this... It makes me feel quite otherwise. I can't figure anything out. Why are we here, Bellamy?', I ask quietly, trying not to sound desperate.

'Do you know how to fight?', he replies with a surprising question.

'Yes', I raise my chin as I notice his swift movement. He tackles my right leg, he knows it's the weaker one and grips my right arm to turn it around. Within seconds I'm lying on the ground, my right arm caught in a steel grasp, my chest pressed to the ground. I feel someone's warm hand on my back, but it's not a gentle touch.

'Do I have to ask you this question again?', I hear Bellamy's voice full of irony and amusement and a red spark of anger flares within me. I turn around on the right side of my body and hit his head with the outer side of my left hand. He releases his grip as I press my arm against his neck. I'm kneeling, my legs spread on the both sides of his hips. I catch his right arm with mine just as he uses the other to grip my throat. Surprisingly, I find it gentle, he doesn't even clench his fingers, just puts them on the upper part of my neck.

'Do _I_ have to _answer_ it again?', I ask and stare at him, the triumph written all over my face. He gazes at me for a while not saying anything. I can feel the atmosphere getting tense and intimidating, so slowly, I pull my arm away from his neck. I can feel his fingers sliding down my throat then leaving my skin. It's a strange sensation, something about the way he does it makes my skin flaming.

'Your weak spot is your concentration. You focus on striking the enemy, but you don't control their moves. I could've strangled you, princess', he says as I get up on my feet.

'Yeah, wanna hear about your weak spots? Pride. Overconfidence. You beat me down and wanted to call it a victory, but you didn't even realize that it might have been to early', I retort as he stands up.

'Look, princess. I want to teach you how to fight. You're good, but you can be better. Your comments are valuable to me and I trust your judgement, so how about a deal? I teach you what I know and you tell me what you know?', he reaches his hand out, but I just gaze at him for a couple of seconds trying to see him through.

I shake his hand and notice some sort of a smile appearing on his face. It's such a rare view that for a second I expect a gun pointed at me. But he only grins and jumps on the rock next to us.

'Catch me if you can', he says teasingly and grabs a liane. I watch him as he crosses the river, the current's getting more rapid every day, but he doesn't seem to notice or care.

'Your turn, princess!', he exclaims as he finds himself on the other side of the river. He's about five metres from me, but I can't help, but feel distant. I heard many stories of people who tried to cross it and died. Normally, you don't even need a liane, but with this fierce current it's easy to get swept away.

I climb on the rock and take a quiet calming breath. He doesn't have to know that I'm scared. I grab the liane and grip it tightly.

I don't close my eyes as I jump, it's just a couple of metres, but I gaze at the sky hoping that my father protects me.

I land and almost fall pushed by a forceful momentum, but Bellamy approaches me just in time to catch me.

'We made it. Now let's try not to get ourselves killed on these territory', he remarks releasing me from his hug.

'I'm sorry, but why did we even come here in the first place...?', I ask looking around. The Grounders aren't exactly a friendly gang. We're at peace with them, but this peace is shaky and marked with unnecessary bloodsheds every month.

'I don't want the patrols to catch us. In some ways, it's the safest place in this town', he replies unimpressed. _The patrols. _The police. They're violent and brutal and they arrest everyone that has the tiniest suspicion thrown at themselves. Except when you provoke a bloodshed. Then you're free to kill anyone, it's their way of controlling the number of people living in this town and country.

I'm silent until we reach some sort of clearing. It's deep in the woods, I've never been here before, so I look around trying to measure the distances between the objects, the spacial arrangement, nearest trees.

Bellamy drops his weapon near him and approaches me as I count the distance between me and the tallest tree around. I can climb, but I'm not the best at it.

'I will attack you and you've got to defend yourself. No hits or dangerous blows, it's not about harming me, but learning something', he says as I tense my muscles.

He does it more than a dozen of times, always stating some comments. It's not as annoying as I thought it would be, now when we set some sort of a truce, the way he speaks _almost_ doesn't bother me anymore. Sometimes we switch the roles and it's me commenting on his skills whenever I'm the one who wins the fight. He's calm and quiet, but he's demanding and, at times, simply irritating.

'You can't keep doing this, Clarke! If you want to fight me, you _have _to control both of my hands', he yells at me as I lie on my back, my arms caught in his steel grip, his knees pressing my thighs, his face close to mine.

'We've done this for like a hundredth time, how about I teach you something now?', I say annoyed as he releases my arms. I get up to face him. We stand in front of each other within a meter of distance. His hair's sweaty, his breath heavy and shaky. He measures me with his unapologetic eyes as I try to focus on breathing normally. We've been here for a couple of hours now and I can see the sun slowly making its way down the horizon.

'Strike me. Do it and make sure I'm on the ground', I command him as we stand opposite each other. I suddenly become aware of a very strange matter as he stares at me for a while, something flickering in his eyes.

He doesn't _want_ to do this. He hesitates.

I'm stunned, but I keep my feelings to myself, not letting my voice hint at anything.

I reach out my hand to punch him, but he sees right through me and catches my wrist before it touches his face. I tackle him and drag him forcefully to the ground. I don't defend myself on purpose as he immobilizes my limps. I can hear his heavy breath as I smirk. He wants so say something, but I raise my head to close the distance between us. It doesn't take strength to defeat him, but brains and emotional manipulation. I feel uncertain though, when I notice the change of his expression.

'Clarke...', he says quietly, clearly unsteady, his voice trembling, perhaps from the effort. I almost touch my lips with his, as I feel his hands loosen the grip. I stay like this for a second observing Bellamy's reaction, but my intentions aren't pure at all. I push him to the ground and block all of his moves by controlling his hands and legs with my own body. He lies on his back, stunned, not quite comprehending what just happened.

'Who's the one losing focus here? Don't get pleased with your win, be alert not to lose', I say shakily, but just this time it's not from the effort. My breath's rapid, fast as if I just ran a marathon, but I wasn't this tired just minutes ago.

'That was good, I'll give you that', he replies regaining his composure, a smug smile on his face hiding a shadow of gentleness. I get off him and stand up.

'You can't attack me and let me lie on my back, because it gives me multiple ways to get out of the difficult situation. I gave you a head start this time, but let's do this again', I order, my hands on my hips. He approaches me swiftly, his hands twisting my arms as if he was arresting me. I can feel his breath on my ear shortly before he hits my right calf. I can't control the squeal getting out of my throat as it's my soft spot.

'I'm so sor...', I cut him off and kick him in his shin then turn around to strike him to the ground.

'Don't apologize. Will you be sorry for hurting your enemy in a fight too?', I ask teasingly sitting down next to him.

He's silent and I become aware of one thing that I just unconsciously stated.

He hurt me and he's sorry for doing so.

_We're not enemies._

At least for now.

He sits next to me as I watch my calf. No blood, the stiches are holding.

'It's okay, nothing happened', I say and bite my tongue a bit too late. Why did I say this...? It's not like he cares.

'Sorry, princess', he replies and then leans his head on the ground, lying down.

'Thank you for this, Bellamy', I say and gaze at the sky. I don't want to look at him, but I can feel his stare on my back.

'Don't thank me yet', he replies playfully, but there's a sadness in his voice, something I cannot quite comprehend. Behind every joke hides a sorrowful note as if he carried a burden so heavy it breakes his heart and leaves his soul hollow.

I gaze at him trying to figure it out. I _should _figure it out. He looks at me too, unspoken words and unanswered questions hanging heavily in the air.

'Did you hear it?', I get up to my feet. Someone's in the woods around us and it makes me highly uncomfortable. Bellamy stands next to me, but I don't sense his tension.

He's not nervous _at all_.

I stare at him as he stands opposite me, something strange about his expression. I open my mouth to say something, but I notice his pained eyes looking above my head and it makes my stomach squirm. I want to turn around, but it's too late.

Before I have a chance to do anything, someone hits me in my head and I lose consciousness.

If I die now, the last thing I'll remember is the picture of Bellamy gazing at me, his eyes regretful, but stern, his mouth open as if he was just about to say something. Isn't life ironic? I always see him when I think I'm about to die. I wonder if he's my saviour or my killer.

_My_ _sweet innocent killer_...

**['_Sweet innocent killer' _is the title of the tale about the girl who jumped from the cliff. It's mentioned in the chapter one.]**

**So, here it is. What do you think, is he her saviour or a killer? It'll be all cards on the table in the next chapter, so I'd love to know what you think about his motives. Thank you for your reviews, it's the biggest source of motivation for me and the best part of writing this story, really. I'd love to know your thoughts on this chapter, so let me know what you think and have a lovely weekend!**


	8. VIII

**I just wanted to warn you that this chapter contains violence and tortures.**

VIII

_Lie and betrayal, baby, it will stab you in the back when you're least expecting it. You have to be strong enough to save yourself without becoming like them. When you sell your soul for a cheap betrayal, you're no longer human. It's worse than death._

_\- _things my dad used to tell me when I was a kid

My dad used to say a lot of things that made me question the world we live in. He'd purposely make me doubt in all the values we're supposed to believe in, everything that's happened in the history of this country. He said that it's not about the law, as in the paper that's covered in letters. He said it's all because of us, people. We created the law we now have to abide, but this law and all the terrible things it supports isn't for people. We've made something so cruel, we became so savage, that we no longer have souls. He said that for some people, there's no Hell after their lives, but dark space above us, with no oxygen, making them float around and choke forever. It always made me shiver, the way he said it, my mum never approved such way of thinking, saying that it'd get him killed. But my father... He blamed the authorities and although he's had severe views on the world, he cherished the truth and the goodness in people's hearts.

There were however two things he despised most on Earth. One was a lie and the other was betrayal.

I feel a horrible headache and a thick liquor streaming down my cheek. I can hear muffled voices from the distance and feel the cold of an approaching storm. I'm dragged by my forearms, my knees bent, my feet touching the ground. My arms are already stiff from the steel grip and my neck hurts from bending over.

I open my eyes carefully, but I only see the grass. My head's down, my hair covering most of the vision.

'_You_ are coming too, the boss has to see that it's you who brought her here or the deal's invalid', I can hear someone's deep, hostile voice.

'I think it's obvious that it was me who brought her', I know this voice. _Bellamy. _

'Shut up, Blake', the thrid voice says forcefully. I close my eyes to recall what happened, I can't afford to do anything senseless right now.

We've been practising fighting skills, I remember. He kicked my right calf and we stopped. There was someone in the woods, but he _knew _about it.

_Lie and betrayal, baby, it'll stab you in the back when you're least expecting it. _

Is that it? Did he really just sell me to the Grounders? For some reason, I find it hard to believe. Why would he practise with me then? Fighting skills?

Something's wrong here and I'm not certain yet, perhaps it's not what it seems, but for God's sake...

We're no longer outside. I open my eyes. The flooring is stone, but there's some light, probably from the candles.

Suddenly, they drop my arms and I hit the ground. I close my eyes as I lie on my back, sticky hair covering half of my face.

'Do this', I can hear the deep voice once again. I don't know what _this _means, but I can feel my stomach squirm. My heart beats so fast, I'm afraid they all hear it. I feel someone's warm, _familiar _arms lifting me from the ground. Carefully, I open my eyes and stare at the face of a well known person. He looks at me too, his eyes hollow, his teeth clenched.

'I'm sorry, princess, but I have no choice', Bellamy whispers so quietly only I can hear him. I glare at him in disbelief and I _know. _His eyes betray him, even though he's sorry, there's no coming back. He can't undo anything and he doesn't want to. I wonder what I've done to deserve this. I wonder what _he_'s done.

'You _will _be sorry yet', I say, my voice dangerously low with a fierce tone to it. He doesn't reply, just places me on some sort of wooden chair. I look around. I'm in the Grounder's cave, but there aren't many spectators. I can see one of them standing just opposite me and two standing on both sides of me. Bellamy backs off, but I can still see him with a corner of my eye. The Grounders tie my hands behind me and bind my ankles to the front legs of the furniture.

'I knew you'd do anything to protect your little reckless sister. But it will haunt you forever', the man standing in front ot me says, but his words aren't meant for me to hear. I shiver, something about the way he says it...

'Save it, I know what I've done and I'd do it again', Bellamy replies almost carelessly. My guts squirm with fury, this bloody traitor will pay for what he's done, I swear to God he will.

'Of course you would. Just make sure your sweet little sister doesn't do anything _stupid_ in the future again. We might take her without any deal', the Grounder says with a cruel smirk.

'Don't you _dare_', Bellamy jumps to him, his fists clenched, but the other two Grounders quickly seize him. He's now standing opposite me, his arms gripped by one of the Grounders, the other one guarding him carefully. They're probably the boss' bodyguards.

'Is it really you, hm? Clarke Griffin?', their commander says leaning closer to me. His eyes are full of amazement and cruelty. I'm filled with disgust, hurt and fury as I spit at him. He's quiet for a second, but that's the calm before the storm. He hits my right cheek. My head turns around pushed by the force of the hit. I spit out the blood on the flooring and face him. Behind him, I notice Bellamy, his expression hard and unreadable.

'Must've been hard... Being the priviledged kid and then suddenly... it's all gone. You have to live on the streets making friends with folks like the Blake siblings. I bet you didn't know they were so treacherous, hm? The traitors will always find their own, am I wrong, Clarke?', he says faking concern.

'I'm not a traitor. I'm not like _him_', I utter fiercely looking at Bellamy. He averts his gaze, clenching his jaw. I wish I'd known the rules of this game, I wish I'd known if he really had no choice.

'Falsely accused will eventually become what they were turned into, mark my words', he replies quietly and picks something from the ground. I can feel cold fingers clenching my heart and squeezing it. It's a bloody whip. I close my eyes, but quickly regain my composure. He cannot see my fear. I wish that by _he_, my mind meant my torturer, but my heart knows too well who my real executioner is. I stare at him as the Grounder raises the whip. It hits my thigh. I blink rapidly, clenching my fists and my teeth. I look down to see my jeans ripped, the blood dripping from the wound.

'Is your sister worth condemning your soul, Blake?', the Grounder moves behind me. I focus my gaze at Bellamy. _Tell me, Bellamy, tell me you really had no choice. _I want to scream it out in his face, I want the answers.

_You're too smart not to figure it out. _

The whip hits my right shoulder. I stop a scream in my throat and almost choke on my spit. I can feel Bellamy's piercing glare focused on me, but I don't look up. I know my face is twisted with suffering and I sure as hell won't let him see it.

_I fought here once a couple of days ago. Bellamy says I shouldn't come here anymore._

The grounder whips my back and this time I can't control scream getting out of my throat.

'_You_ will pay for his sister's sins', he whispers in my ear and I shiver as my mind repeats Octavia's words, they taunt me and challenge me to piece it together.

_You got into a bar fight?_

He hits my chest smacking my cheek with a whip. I have tears in my eyes as I grit my teeth.

_With a Grounder._

I feel Bellamy's gaze on me, so I look up and meet his eyes. Faked indifference is replaced by regret and suffering and I wish he didn't see me when I'm so weak. I don't need his pity.

_I beat him though, he could barely walk._

I piece it together. I figured it out. Sometimes knowledge is a burden and my wisdom comes from experience.

'Watch her being tortured because of you', the Grounder turns around to face Bellamy. For a moment I think he's going to whip him too, but then it hits me. He's watching it, because these Grounders clearly enjoy making him realize what he's done. But he'll not physically suffer for what he's done, he set me up, so I will.

Suddenly, I become aware of the knife on my wrist tightened by my watch strap. My hands are tied, but I reach my fingers under the sleeve of my jacket. I try to get it out, but there's a rope tied on my wrist, so I push the knife further under my jacket. I can feel its blade pierce the skin of my index finger and I grimace. The Grounder turns around and notices it, but he hasn't figured it out yet. I grab the blade on both sides with my fingers, not to hurt myself and then pull it out above the rope. I catch the knife's handgrip and cut the bonds. I can see the Grounder raising his whip, but I bend over hiding my head and quickly cut the bonds tying my legs to the chair. It all takes less than seven seconds. I get up and catch his wrist twisting it. I use the knife to cut his stomach as I notice the other two coming at me.

I slit one's chest and freeze. I don't even know what I wish for, his death or survival.

Just as I notice the second Grounder, his hand outstrethed holding a knife, I know it's over.

But I catch a glimpse of Bellamy behind him and a red flame of fury sparks within me. I kick the Grounder in his shin blocking his outstretched hand with mine.

Without turning around, I run to the exit and crawl to the ground. I get up to my feet and run, run, run as fast as I can until the adrenaline stops working and I feel pain all over my body.

I sway on my feet and lie down. It's dark outside and as I stare at the sky I feel cold drops of rain on my face. I need to get to safety before the storm comes. I can hear a thunder from afar. For a second it's all quiet. But then I hear the leaves rustle and I know that I'm not alone.

I use my last energy to get up and grip my knife.

'Don't come closer or I swear to God, I'll skin you', I say as I notice a familiar silhouette standing opposite me.

'I'm so sorry, Clarke', he replies dropping his weapon as if to show he's defensless.

'You set me up!', I jump to him, my knife reaching his throat. He raises his hands and gazes at me.

'I needed to protect Octavia, she got into a bloody bar fight, they told me to bring you. I'm so sorry, Clarke, I had no choice', he exclaims trying to outscream the thunder.

'So it was all just a set up? You shot me, but then panicked and saved me to keep me close? Why did you teach me how to fight? ', I ask, my voice desperate for answers.

'I thought that maybe... maybe I'd help you, that somehow you'll get out of it', he says quietly.

'I did and I did it without your help', I spit out, my tears mixing with raindrops streaming down my face.

'I'm so sorry, Clarke, I panicked, I'm so _sorry, _', he gets down to his knees and unconsciously I do the same. I'm so exhausted and my skin hurts so much, I cannot stand on my feet anymore. I draw my knife away from his throat and throw it somewhere near me.

'You betrayed me and I wish I could believe you had no other choice, but I won't have your blood on my hands', I say quietly, kneeling, but I no longer have the energy to even do this, so I just lie down on a cold wet grass letting the rain wash away my pain.

'We should hide somewhere', he says quietly after a while.

'Why are you helping me now? Your deal is done', I spit out opening my eyes. The rain is heavier now, the thunder's almost here.

'Because I'm trying to convince myself that I'm not a _monster_', he says, something heart-wrenching about his voice. It reminds me of my best friend, the son of the chancellor. I would've done _anything_ to protect him even though he wasn't my family in a biological way. I'm afraid of the love for a person that is your sibling, your family.

'I don't have a sister. I don't have anyone to take care of. My friend's dead because I couldn't save him. I don't know if you had a choice or not, but I know that you'd do _anything_ to protect your sister . Blood is thicker than water after all... At least that's what they say', my voice's quieter as I utter the last sentence. It's not like I'd know. I get up to my feet. I'm grateful for the rain, because I can't control tears streaming down my face. Some of them come from physical pain, some have its roots in my bleached memories of people I once loved.

Bellamy's quiet as he follows me. I wish I could lean on him, because I can barely walk, but I'm not weak and I don't need any traitor's help. I want to believe he's not a bad person, but after all he's done, I doubt in the purity of his heart. Perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps I measure everyone with my own sinful heart and I just can't see innocent gold in people's. Maybe I'm desperate, because he _did_ save his loved one and I couldn't, no matter what I did.

I move the ivy away from the entrance to the cave. I walk in and stumble. I fall to the ground, but don't bother to do anything about it. I found us a safe place, I no longer have the energy nor the will to check on Bellamy. It's not like he was the one tortured after all, he can handle himself.

I crawl to lean my back on the cave's wall and observe Bellamy as he puts a bunch of pieces of wood on the stone ground and lights a fire.

'Would you do this again?', I ask after a moment of silence. Bellamy sits on the other side of the bonfire, opposite me, flames covering half of his body.

'I said I would. But the answer is no', he replies firmly, a hint of regret in his voice.

'So you'd let them torture your sister to get their venegeance?', I challenge him.

'I'd rather _kill_ them', he replies quietly and I'm stunned.

'They're not worth it', I breathe out and grit my teeth as I feel my wounds on the back. I notice Bellamy approaching me and kneeling beside me.

'Easy', he says and puts his hand on my back helping me lie down.

'I'm not a traitor. You are', I blurt out. I think I'm starting to rave. His palm touches my cheek.

'I know. I'm sorry', he whispers as I close my eyes.

'It hurts, it hurts so much', I growl, my body twists. I'm delirious, I can feel heat spreading through my body.

'I know, but you'll be okay', he says, a spark of fear in his tone.

'I'm not so sure', I reply quietly. I can feel drops of sweat on my forehead.

'Don't do this to me, princess', he leans closer as I open my eyes.

'You're gonna... die from... guilt?', I utter ironically, but it sounds more like a statement. I can feel his hand gripping mine.

'I'd wish I would die', he says forcefully.

'Heavens know your heart better than I do... you will be... forgiven', I utter, a faint smile appearing on my face. I want to piece my thoughts together and stop this useless rambling, but it's hard. I feel as if my mind was covered in a thick layer of fog.

'And you will make it through the night, princess', he says pressing his lips to my forehead. He did it once somewhen, I just can't remember what were the circumstances.

'I've had no help from the angels... _you_ are my guard, my soldier, my last true hope', I breathe out. It sounds incoherently, it doesn't fit the situation, but I can't control my irrational thoughts.

'What does it mean?', he asks, but I'm not sure whether he's curious or just wants to distract me from my suffering.

'That's what my friend said when he was dying. I was his guard, his soldier, his last true hope and now he's dead', I whisper clenching my fists. Bellamy's palm doesn't leave my cheek, now he strokes my cheekbone with his thumb.

'You didn't save him, but you saved your soul', he says quietly and I have a feeling that he cut short his sentence. _You saved your soul... unlike me._

'_You_ are my guard, my soldier, my last true hope', I cite deliriously and close my eyelids. I feel like I was losing my senses, but I'll get through the night. My dad said that I have to save myself and I will. But I'm not a traitor, I didn't sell my soul. I hope you're proud of me, father, I've had no help from the angels, but I did what I could and I'll _live._

**I've had plenty of inspiration to write it and I hope I made it right. It's a twisted plot, so perhaps your feelings are mixed and I hope you weren't thrown off by the scenes of tortures. Anyway, it's not all said and done between Clarke and Bellamy, but some of the heavier stuff's behind us, so I hope you'll bear with me as I'll try to write them in a happier way (hilarious, I know). I'd like to ask you to let me know what you think about this story, because the reviews motivate and inspire me and just thank you for every single one of them. Thank you very, very much. Have a lovely week!**


	9. IX

IX

(Part I)

_The skies are so pretty _

_The waters so sweet_

_I almost fall for this world _

_But the ghosts are calling_

_and they won't let us sleep _

* * *

(Part II)

_It's the coven of witches_

_It's the sanctuary of ghosts_

_It's the kingdom of the dead_

_It's a haunted world_

_For me and you to live in_

* * *

_Beautiful, terrifying world_

_\- _by Lexa of the Grounders

It's still dark when I open my eyes. I was half awake most of the time due to a fever, but I feel better now and I no longer have the patience to lie on the stone ground. My back hurts now not only because of the wounds, but also because of the hard surface. Not that I'd complain about that, it's a miracle we found a safe place for a storm anyway.

Slowly, I raise my head, then lean my hands on the ground and sit up. I notice someone lying next to me and recognize him immediately. Bellamy.

He doesn't open his eyes as I struggle to get up, so I decide not to wake him up. After all that's been said and done, I don't think it's possible for us not to go our seperate ways. I do feel a strange sensation when I look at his peaceful expression though, and it makes my stomach squirm.

'Going somewhere, princess?', I hear a famliar voice behind me as I move away the ivy to leave the cave.

I freeze and turn around. So much of the quiet leaving. I sigh and cross my arms staring at him.

'Yes, actually, I am', I reply raising my eyebrows challengingly.

'Well, then, I'm going too', he says and walks by me, leaving the cave. I sigh exasperatedly and follow him.

'I'm sorry, but where are you going?', I snort as he stops to wait for me and frowns looking at my tigh. I look at it too and take a sharp intake of breath.

'To my house. Octavia will treat you', he replies and follows me as I pass him.

'Charming, but no. I can take care of myself', I retort and feel a grip on my arm, making me stop and turn around.

'Look, princess', he says as I glare at him.

'I _know_ what I'm doing', I cut him off sharply. He stares at me for a moment. I let go my arm and glance at him before turning away.

I move the branches away as I keep going forward. Bellamy thinks I'm stubborn and irresponsible, perhaps he still considers me delirious, but I know what I'm doing, I know where I'm going.

I reach my destination, but it's still dark. I bet it's close to sunrise, perhaps it's very early in the morning, but I can't tell, because my watch's broken a couple of days ago. It makes me feel uncomfortable and kind of distressed, I really need to fix it, maybe Raven could help.

I take off my jacket and my shoes. I feel wet grass underneath my bare feet as I turn my head only to see Bellamy staring at me, his eyes widened. I laugh and freeze, it's such a strange sound amidst the dead of the night.

'What the hell do you think you're doing?', he shouts at me as he comes closer and measures me with his eyes. I don't reply, just turn around and soak my feet in the lake. I take a few more steps and stop. The water's cold, incredibly cold, but it feels amazing. I close my eyes and go further.

'Clarke, these waters are dangerous. My sister was attacked by some creature here', I hear Bellamy's warning, but he should just stop treating my like a child.

'Are you worried about me?', I tease him turning around to face him. I take a few more steps back and look at him challengingly. The water reaches my hips. Bellamy clenches his teeth, then takes off his shoes and shirt. His chest is muscled, covered in scars and dirt. I stare at it for a moment, then look up to meet his restless eyes, always scanning the lethal surroundings.

'If you're stupid enough to get yourself killed', he retorts and steps into the lake. I look at him as he gets closer. The water reflects the moonlight and it's incredibly silent, almost as if the world stopped. He senses my gaze and looks up, but I turn around to go even further.

'You don't have a shower in your house or what?', he snorts. He's just a couple of metres from me as the water reaches my waist. I roll my eyes at the question and touch the water surface with my fingertips.

'Hilarious. It's a special lake. The seaweed here produces large amounts of healing and soothing substances and the algae are antibacterial', I reply as I feel a tingle on my tigh, then my back. It's painful and relieving at the same time. I bent my knees so that the water reaches my shoulder.

'Feeling better?', Bellamy asks uncertainly. It's obviously an uncomfortable question, but I don't mind. I turn around and notice he's just opposite me.

'Yes. Yes, much better', I reply quietly with relish. The water's icy cold and I wonder how can he bear it with his bare chest. I shiver then smirk and look up to meet his insecure gaze.

'Allright then, let's...', he cuts short his sentence as he notices me swimming away from him.

'Catch me if you can', I exclaim with a smirk, repeating his earlier words. He's confused for a second, but then I hear water splashing behind me and I know he's trying to follow.

'Watch out, princess', he breathes, a spark of laughter in his voice. I dive rapidly hiding my entire body under the water's surface. I stay like this for a few seconds until I feel someone's arms pulling me out, gripping my waist and my back. I'm above the water again, my forearms pressed against Bellamy's chest, my back held and embraced. I can't control laughter getting out of my throat as I breathe again. I feel someone's hands on my cheeks.

'Are you _insane_?', I open my eyes. My vision's blurry, but I recognize Bellamy's hard expression and grin. He frowns with anger and traces my face with his eyes as if I really was _insane. _

Maybe I am. Maybe he's just never staked anything on one card or held his head under the surface until the oxygen runs out and all you hear is silence. Maybe he's never been betrayed, saved and relieved to be alive, to hear the leaves rustle, to feel the icy water freezing your veins, to truly see this terrifying world we live in as beautiful.

'What are you doing?', I blurt out still grinning, catching some air. His hands leave my face as I wipe the water off my eyelids.

'I though you drowned, princess, I swear to God', he says shaking his head in disbelief and irritation. I gaze at him with a smile flickering on my lips.

'I'm fine, but thanks. It's always good to know that you're not a sweet, innocent killer', I say quietly, my amusement turning to bitterness.

'You've heard about it, haven't you? That tale?', he replies with an astounding question. Everyone heard about it, I want to point it out, but I notice his stare on my collarbone. I freeze as he cuts the distance between us and looks at me as if to ask for permission, but I'm silent. I guess he takes it as a yes, since I can feel his fingers touching my shoulder, then my collarbone, gently tracing the wound. My blouse is ripped in this place, just like in every other I've been hit with a whip, so it's easy to see the wound spanning from my cheek, then my shoulder, collarbone. I'm afraid to look up, but I do and I see Bellamy's expression, hard to read, but his touches are clear as he moves his fingers to stroke my cheek. I shiver and he takes it as a reaction to pain, but the only pain I feel right now is the one in my heart, hammering, ripping it apart. He stops abruptly, then places his other hand on my shoulder and moves behind me. I can feel my skin underneath his hand burn, the heat spreading to my arms, then my back, leaving me feverish.

'Does it hurt?', he asks very quietly, I almost can't hear him. My heart beats so rapidly, I'm afraid it might tear through my chest. He touches my back, near the wound and strokes it with his fingers.

'No', I reply in the same tone. I feel my voice trembling, but it's just a simple, short word. _No. _It takes a lot for me to utter it without sounding weak, even if it's just one syllabe. Only one to save one's conscience.

I shiver and this time it's from the cold. He notices it and stops moving his fingers. He takes his other hand off my shoulder and stands in front of me. The water reaches his hips, while for me it's already my waist.

'We should go', he says as I look up to see the darkness is gone. It's sunrise. The sky's beautifully pink, yellow, red, orange. All of the colours are pale, gentle, delicate. Bellamy stares at the sky too, something wistful about his expression. I wonder what he thinks.

'Yeah, we probably should', I reply mindlessly, staring at the stunning palette. I should draw it, but coal cannot picture these colours, only my memory has such power.

'Clarke', Bellamy says after a moment. I glance at him, caught in my thoughts. It takes me a couple of seconds to notice his outstretched hand. He stands about a meter from me, looking impatient, waiting unitl I grip it.

I don't look at him as I grab his hand and let him walk me out of the water. I can still feel stinging all over my body, but I don't mind as long as my wounds aren't septic.

I put on my shoes and my jacket. I remain cold from the icy water, but the clothes dry quickly as we silently walk out of the woods.

'We shouldn't cross the river anymore', Bellamy says as we find ourselves on the other, technically _safer_ side. I glance at him and snort. Firstly, there's no _we_, I'll do whatever _I_ want. Secondly, though...

'I'm sorry, I think I forgot... whose idea was it to cross it in the first place?', I retort sarcastically and pass him. I hear his sigh behind me and roll my eyes.

'Where do you think you're going, princess?', he snorts after a moment of silence. I don't have to turn around to know that his expression right now hesitates between irritation and irony just like his voice.

'Look, Bellamy. I don't give a damn about what you want from me anymore... forgiveness? Yes, I forgive you, be at peace, whatever you want. Understanding? You have it! Friendship...? I don't want to be your friend, so I'm gonna have a problem with this one and... don't even make me laugh. I just don't care, got it?', I face him and say it all aloud. He's stunned for just one second.

'You're incredibly charming in your naivety, princess. I don't want to be friends either, don't flatter yourself', he retorts with a sarcastic smirk all over his mouth. _Then what on Earth is that you want?_

But I don't say it out loud. I've just denied any curiosity towards his intentions, I don't want to get burned again.

I keep going as I hear him following me silently. It's such a strange sensation to have someone behind you when you're not sure whether they cover your back or just wait to stab you. I shudder at the thought and look up. We're on the edge of the town, the lights aren't yet lit, there's no living soul strolling through the streets. I stop for a moment to check on the wound on my thigh. I can still feel stinging, but it's a pleasant sensation and I notice the cut's already closed, there's no blood or any other substance and it's started healing. I can barely walk now though, since the adrenaline stopped working, just like the blissful freezing, which deceived my senses and for some time I've been able to forget about the pain, but not anymore.

'You should get some rest, princess', I almost jump at the sound, but then I remember Bellamy's behind me.

'And you should piss off', I retort not turning around.

'As you wish, but only under two conditions', he moves to face me. I glare at him for a while, then sigh and roll my eyes.

'What _conditions_, Bellamy?', I grit my teeth impatiently as he enjoys the dramatic pause.

'You will eat something, that's one. _And_ you'll let me help you', he says with a suspicious grin on his face and it worries me. He never smiles like this. If anything, it's an annoying sort of smirk or he lifts one of the corners of his mouth in a nonchalant fashion.

'Help me with what exactly?', I snort narrowing my eyes. He's quiet for a moment. I notice his movement a second before my feet no longer touch the ground.

'Hey...!', I exclaim as he lifts me and starts walking.

'I'll be gone, I promise. Just let me help you', he replies unfazed as I stare at him in disbelief. There's silence after his words.

'My dad would ask me something when I was a kid. What superpower would you choose, that was the question. I'd always say _flying_, because it makes you free and what makes you free, makes you happy. I'd fly over this terrible country and send them all one nice gesture and they wouldn't even catch me, because I'd fly to some other place, some different world. Flying, it was _always_ the answer. But you, you made me question my choice. Because whenever I'm with you, I wish I could read minds', I say quietly looking at him daringly.

'Careful what you wish for, princess', he only replies after a while of silence.

The town's lit with the first rays of sun, but there's no one around us.

'You can support your hands on my neck, you know', he snorts ironically as I'm almost thrown off his arms. I roll my eyes and tangle my fingers on his neck.

'Will you keep your promise now?', I sigh as he smirks.

'Well, there's a second condition still left', he replies as I turn my head to see what's in front of us.

'I'm serious', I say staring at him. His gaze meets mine and then, before I have a chance to react, he places me on the ground. My hands are still on his neck though and I can feel his hand remaining on my back.

'So am I. I'll be gone', he replies and I feel my guts twist and squirm.

It's such a strange feeling though. We stand here so close, my hands on his neck, his arms on my back, it almost feels like a loving embrace. It's a shame how appearances can deceive reality, almost tricking me into believing that we're not enemies. That our promise has a different meaning, but it's a promise of leaving, the strangest of all and perhaps the only one that has the power to heal my wounds, to save my heart from danger, to ensure my survival. Because if there's any lesson I learnt, it's about trust. I look up to meet Bellamy's gaze and I feel my heart squirm. I used to seek answers behind these eyes, but I no longer feel the need to. We are all complicated human beings and sometimes, just sometimes, it's better not to know all the twisted pieces of one's mind. Sometimes it's better to silence the curiosity and just... part.

I only wish I could make my heart believe in it.

'One more condition and you're free', he says with an amused grin on his face as if to tease me, after we move away from each other.

'Great', I roll my eyes and suppress emptiness within my heart. I am happy about finally not being in danger, exposed to betrayal and lack of control. _I am._

There's just one piece of my heart that refuses to believe in all the evil that's happened. One part that believes in a saviour rather than a killer*.

But one little piece isn't enough to fight my brain and my common sense.

'Let's just get it over with', I sigh as we enter the bar. For a traitor, I'm not fond of goodbyes.

*It refers to the line from chapter seven: _I always see him when I think I'm about to die. I wonder if he's my saviour or my killer._


End file.
